


shake off all of your sins

by asongofsnow



Series: use my head alongside my heart [1]
Category: Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Angst, Apologies, Canon Compliant, Coping, F/M, Future Fic, Happy Ending, Hurt, Post Season 8, Post-Canon, Sansa-centric
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-29
Updated: 2019-10-29
Packaged: 2021-01-06 04:53:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,475
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21220901
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/asongofsnow/pseuds/asongofsnow
Summary: She promised herself she wouldn't cry anymore, not for anyone else. So she doesn't.





	shake off all of your sins

**Author's Note:**

  * For [willowycreature](https://archiveofourown.org/users/willowycreature/gifts).

> Hello there!
> 
> I made [this](https://sansaravenclaw.tumblr.com/post/188667806782/bran-sends-her-a-raven-and-her-world-stops-he-is) edit and I got inspired. This is my first time writing for jonsa in show canon, so I hope it doesn't suck too much.
> 
> I put a lot of my unresolved feelings into this since I'm still coping after the finale. Now maybe I can finally make my peace with it, who knows.
> 
> This work is unbetaed and English is not my first language so please excuse any mistakes.
> 
> Thank you so much for reading and I hope you enjoy!

Bran sends her a raven and her world stops. _ He _ is coming home, and it's been so long, almost _ too long _ and yet she still feels her heart flutter. Three times has his name day gone by, because yes she remembers the date as if they were still children, and she thinks about sending him something, _ anything _, but nothing ever comes to mind. What does one say when they remain unforgiven by the one they love the most? She has nothing left to say to him, so she never does.

He doesn’t write either, but she doesn't expect him to. He writes to Arya, many times it seems, and her sister is the one who informs her of how he's doing, whenever she finds time to send Sansa a proper letter. It shouldn't hurt that much, she thinks, to not be the one receiving his words, but it does, and she swallows her anger and tears at night. She promised herself she wouldn't cry anymore, not for anyone else. So she doesn't.

The letter Bran sends her is a request, though, a request of a pardon for a man she once thought she knew like the back of her hand. _ I've already given him mine but he wants to go home _ , the letter says. Home is Winterfell, she supposes, even if she had once assumed that for him home would be a lovers embrace. He has sure acted like so, all those years ago, and she still feels the pain as if it had been only yesterday. But now home is Winterfell, even if he has to share it with her, to be in her presence, the cousin he could not forgive. _ The sister he could not love. _And now the Queen, who's pardon he needs in order to come back, to his family, to his people, to her. Does he really want that, or is it just another one of Bran's many moves in order to assure things will happen like they are supposed to? She doesn’t know, and neither does she try to understand. She simply signs it, sending the raven back after petting it's head in a loving way, as she always does.

They always remind her of him.

* * *

She goes to the godswood every day and prays, for herself, for her family, for her kingdom. She remembers her dead and she celebrates her living, and she asks for wisdom and strength and kindness to keep herself going. She now prays that he makes a safe journey back, that he finds joy in returning, and she hopes that maybe he has forgiven her in those three years apart. It's selfish and she shouldn't wish for it, but she does. She hopes that he prays for her too.

* * *

He comes, wearing the same cloak she's made for him, the one that makes him look even more like father, the one she assumed he had lost or thrown away by now. He looks older, the cold has not been kind to him, and yet still the same as the day he'd hugged her close, a long time ago in Castle Black. She remains seated and she realizes this is the first time he's seeing her with her crown, the one she wears for herself and Robb. _ And for him, too. _None of them had been there with her, neither Bran, nor Arya, nor him. Not even Brienne has seen her take her place as Queen, and none had come to visit in those three years. There is always so much to do, so many things to take care of, never any time left for visits. She's been alone for so long she's not sure if she still knows how to talk about things that aren't food provisions or defense strategies or how cold the weather is.

He stays silent, looking at her from afar. He doesn't smile so she doesn't either, and they stay there like strangers, as if they weren't once the only family left to each other. She wants to scream at him, to say _ I'm sorry, I'm so sorry _but what is she sorry for? She's done nothing wrong. She knows that now.

He bows, speaking only two words before turning to leave.

"My Queen."

They cut through her like a knife. That night, she cries.

* * *

She eats supper alone at her solar. It's been two days and they've barely exchanged words, she keeps herself busy not to think about it. She doesn't know what he does with his days, but her maidens mention he's been seen a few times at the weirwood tree. She's grateful that they haven't met during her prayers, she's not sure what she would say, and part of her wonders if he still remembers at what time she usually goes there. She wonders if he's avoiding her on purpose as well and she's delighted to think that maybe he's thought of her during their time apart.

There's an urgent knock at her door and her mind races as if something's wrong, old habits die hard and she's alert even if it's already so late. It's only him, though, standing there wearing all black, brows furrowed, eyes down, and it takes her back to Castle Black, to getting to know each other again, to feeling finally safe. She swallows, waits for his words.

"Apologies, Your Grace, I know it's late. I wish to speak with you, if I may."

"There's no need for such formalities, Jon. And yes, you may. Do come in."

They sit in silence, his eyes on the fire, her hands clasped in her lap. She can see in his face all the battles he fought, all the arguments they had, all the people he lost. She sees pain and misery and sacrifice, and she thinks she could take it all away. She would, if he let her, but she knows he never will. She waits for him to say something, anything, she only wishes to hear his voice again, wishes for him to talk to her as if she's someone to him, not just some Queen he's pledged himself to but someone important, someone he cares for. He is all she had left at some point. Has he forgotten that so quickly? Has he forgotten her? The silence is unbearable so she tries again, like she had tried on the pier, right before she'd let him go.

"Forgive me, Jon."

He looks at her, startled, their eyes meeting for the first time since he'd seen her with her crown at his arrival. He breathes in, eyes still locked with hers, and she prepares herself for the hurt once more, for the tears that would certainly come later, like they had that day after his silence. This time, though, he speaks.

"There's nothing to forgive."

She tries again, her voice stronger this time. "Forgive me."

"Sansa." He speaks, and it's the first time he says her name in all the years they've been apart, and she still loves him, she knows she does, because hearing his voice say her name in that affectioned but frustrated tone he always used with her makes her heart beat three times faster. Suddenly she's not a Queen, not a Lady at all, she's just a girl, lost and hungry and cold, and she wishes she could throw herself in his arms once more.

Quickly, he's on his knees in front of her and he takes her hands in his, squeezing them tight. He lowers his eyes and speaks, low and steady, as if it's something he's been practicing for quite some time.

"I'm the one who should ask you for forgiveness. That's what I’ve come to tell you tonight, to beg you in fact, like I should have a long time ago. I am sorry, Sansa, so incredibly sorry and I wish I knew better words to say this properly, but the only words I have are my own. I can see now that I was wrong, and I have failed. I failed you all, man, woman and child, and I know I should've listened. That day in the godswood, I should've listened to you and Arya, I should have trusted my gut, because deep down I knew something wasn't right, and I guess that's why it hurts so much." He sighs, shakes his head, his words more franctic than before. "I was a fool, Sansa, a damn fool like you warned me not to be and I failed you. I failed you the most. I said we needed to trust each other and I asked you to put your faith in me and you did. You did all that, and still, I let you down. And I know it's all long over now and it's taken me quite some time to make my peace with my mistakes, so I will understand if you can't forgive me. You are in your right, as Queen, to do so, and after this if you wish to never see me again, I will be gone. But I still have hope, so I have to try. I am sorry for all the pain that my actions have caused. I was tired of fighting and sadly that lead me to misjudge things, to put my faith in someone whose personal motives interfered with my duty to our people, and I let my desire get the best of me, but this is no excuse. I should've known better. I was wrong not to listen to you, and I deeply regret it."

He pauses, eyes still down, his hands squeezing hers to the point of pain and yet Sansa doesn't let go. She weighs his words carefully, as she's aware of what they mean. They're the words of a man who had to swallow much of his pride to be kneeling there before her, asking for forgiveness. They are the words of a man who knows now what he has done, and what that has cost, and who will probably carry that weight with him through all his life. It seems, to her, that he has been spending the greater part of those three years deep in thought, likely looking for the moment where he could've said something, done something different, something to prevent all the harm that was done in their name. All that death and suffering and hurt, he's been carrying all that with him, and she feels her heart beginning to break for what he has endured.

Still, he is right. He had been a fool, they all had, and they had all paid the price. Sansa's is her loneliness in the end, and little does her crown, land and people matter when one couldn't share it with the ones she loved. Now is her chance to get something back.

But could she give it to him, though? Could she grant him forgiveness, when he has not done her the same, all those years ago after she rode her army to that cursed city in his name? He'd still been too blind, then, to understand the weight of his silence on her, to understand how much he'd hurt her even after all they've been through, by simply saying nothing at all. Could she put that behind her now, and give him what he needs most?

She still hasn't spoken when he asks, barely a whisper. "Can you forgive me?"

She finds it in her heart that she can, yes. Partly because he is sorry, she can tell. She can always tell now, when a man is lying, and it's clear he has regretted it all, has meant every single word. She's not even sure her forgiveness will do him much good, from the way she could hear his broken spirit in his voice. It's not like it matters all that much. The main reason why she can forgive is because she loves him, and her love goes deep inside her bones. It's the one thing she didn't lose, the one thing they weren't capable of taking from her. Joffrey, Cersei, Petyr, Ramsay, they all tried. They took and took and then they took some more, and yet, love was the one thing that she held on to. It was love that kept her standing, it was love that made her strong, and it is love that will be their salvation now, for that is exactly what he needs, and she knows that.

"Jon, look at me."

And he does, his eyes unsure, seeming almost scared, and her heart tightens in her chest just by looking at him. He needs this, and she hopes he'll let himself believe in it like she does.

She releases her hands from his hold and places them on each side of his face. Her voice is low and sweet, and she speaks her words as clearly as she can, so that he may not mistaken them, so that he may finally understand.

"It's alright. It's long over now, Jon, and it's alright. You're forgiven. I forgive you."

He stays quiet and she takes the opportunity to come forward, placing her lips at his forehead, a gentle yet firm kiss, like he has done to her here in Winterfell in what it seemed like a lifetime ago. It is a kiss to assure him that she means it all, that he has her forgiveness and so much more, if he were to wish for it. She lets her lips linger longer than necessary and as she let goes, she shifts her gaze from his eyes to his lips while she waits.

How long they stay frozen she doesn't know, but it's long enough for the candles at her desk to diminish in size, the room getting darker and the air heavy. Slowly, a small smile appears on his face, and he gets up, pulling her with him, and his hands are cold.

"I should go now."

"Yes, you should."

He bows, then brings her hands to his lips and places a chaste kiss on each one, and if she blushes she hopes he doesn’t notice. He turns to leave and is opening the door when she finds the strength to ask.

"How long will you be staying?"

He stills, turning his face towards her, and despite the low light she can clearly see the way his throat moves when he swallows before speaking.

"As long as my queen wishes me to."

She smiles, a small smile to match his, and bids him goodnight. It's only when he's long gone, and she's laying in bed, the darkness around her, that she allows herself to properly smile, so wide and so truthful, in a way that she hasn’t done in too long, reliving the memory of his skin under her lips.

She falls asleep crying tears of joy this time.

**Author's Note:**

> Not sure if this was believable or not but I just really needed him to apologize after everything that happened in season eight. I hope you guys enjoyed this very self indulgent fic 🤧
> 
> I'm @sansaravenclaw on tumblr if you ever want to chat.
> 
> Thank you so much for reading and leaving your support. You guys keep me going.
> 
> Xxxxxxx


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